Smallpaw's Hero
by Cat le Fleur
Summary: Smallpaw, a medicine-cat apprentice, up until recently had been stubbornly holding out on his dream of becoming a warrior to emulate Lionblaze. Now with opened eyes, he sees that he doesn't need physical strength to emulate his hero. But Smallpaw has only one question; how does he do it through his spirit?
1. Chapter 1

**「Volume One: Fading Shadows 」**

ShadowClan camp, only moments ago, had been alive with the sounds of battle. Caterwauling and hissing had drowned out the all usual ambient noise the cats were accustomed to. Nowadays, for a Clan camp to be a place of conflict was highly unusual - especially in a time of peace.

But Blazetail shouldn't have been surprised that a WindClan raid party had attacked. Tensions between ShadowClan and WindClan had been mounting for a while now. It was only a matter of time that those tensions erupted into conflict. Nipping on the heels of a retreating tom, he grimly wondered what lengths the enemy would go to. Attacking an enemy camp? That was a bold move.

Blazetail glared, watching as the retreating tom's tail snaked between the boulder sitting in front of ShadowClan's camp entrance. Blazetail was a large and powerful tom, underneath his dark ginger tabby coat was rippling muscle. As the final WindClan cat fled, he let out a triumphant cry. His fellow warriors joined him, creating a melody of victory.

Once the commotion died down, it was time for him to get to work. "Alright, any wounded cats go to Petalnose, those of you who are fine help repair any damage to the barrier!" Blazetail's voice rumbled, deep and commanding. He was about to help with the barrier until he saw the silver form of an old she-cat, lying in the dirt.

His amber eyes went wide he rushed over, "Silverstar!" Blazetail cried. Tentatively, he nosed through her fur. Relief swept over him when he found that her fur was neither limp nor was her body cold. ShadowClan's leader hadn't gone to hunt with their ancestors just yet; she was only unconscious.

But then his attention was brought to another form laying in the dirt. Unlike Silverstar, the cat was conscious and curled up in a tight ball. They were small with a sickly, frail frame, their expression was pained - though not from the physical kind. The cat's pelt was predominantly white, with black splotches along their body. Their left ear and their whole tail was black.

Blazetail immediately recognised the cat. "Smallpaw, what are you doing? You're supposed to be in the medicine cat den with Petalnose." he meowed. Blazetail couldn't help but let irritation slip into his voice. He was supposed to remain in the medicine cat den - where it was safe - so why was he in the middle of camp?

Thw tom had a hunch that he knew why. Blazetail hadn't forgotten the commotion that Smallpaw, Smallkit at the time, made the day before his apprentice ceremony. "Take Silverstar to the medicine den. Here, I'll help you." he spoke.

It was clear from the stark contrast between the two toms that Blazetail would be the one doing most of the heavy lifting. Almost completely independent of Smallpaw's influence, he carried their unconscious leader into the medicine cat den. Gently, the deputy laid her down in a moss nest. "She's unconscious, but I don't know how badly she's hurt." Blazetail murmured to Petalnose. He then left the medicine cat den, his tail disappearing behind him.

Petalnose was a pretty she-cat, with long chestnut-brown tabby fur. She took great care of it, which is why it was so sleek and soft. Parts of her fur were lighter such as; her muzzle, paws, underbelly, and legs. Her green eyes were usually gentle, but they were harshly fixed on her apprentice. She would talk to Smallpaw later about his little stunt.

Meekly, Smallpaw attempted to ignore the eyes boring into his pelt. He felt hot with shame and humiliation. He had flat out ignored her cries for him to come back to the medicine cat den once the battle started, desperate to prove to Silverstar that he really did have what it took to be a warrior.

But now that Smallpaw had his first taste of battle, the harsh reality was clear - he was simply too frail. It was just as his mentor had told him, as Silverstar had told him, and even his mother and father told him. He had lost his breath soon after he engaged Stormstar, who had barely taken him seriously. He even thought he was a kit!

Smallpaw felt grief well in his heart and a lump form in his throat while he reached for some dock leaves. Silently, he chewed the leaves and treated any warriors who hadn't been treated by Petalnose. The tom's touch was soft and gentle as he applied the chewed-up dock leaves to scratches, lacerations, and cuts. The den, even with the several warriors now inhabiting it, remained quiet.

Suddenly, Petalnose cleared her throat. "Smallpaw?" she called. Her voice was soft, just as a medicine cat's voice should be, but there was a tone of irritation that crept through her words.

Smallpaw, hunched over, turned to face her.

"I would like a word."

He followed her out of the medicine cat den, his paws dragging along the ground. The little white-and-black knew what was coming. He couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes, he already knew that they full of disappointment.

Petalnose hissed, "enough is enough, Smallpaw. You could have been seriously hurt because of that mouse-brained stunt of yours! It's time to accept that you'll never be a warrior and make do with your position. I know it's not what you want to hear, but it's the harsh reality of it."

Smallpaw finally mustered up the courage to look his mentor in the eye. Just as he predicted, they were brimming with disappointment. That only served to intensify the feeling of shame inside him. He nodded his head, "I know, I'm sorry." he mumbled.

With a sigh, Petalnose continued, "are you ready to move on?"

"Yes. I remember what you said, about how I can be like Lionblaze through my spirit instead."

Smallpaw had heard Petalnose repeat the same mantra since he was made her apprentice three moons ago. But only now had he began listening to it. He had deluded himself into chasing after his kithood dream and allowed for his own misery to keep him dwelling on it. But now his eyes had been forced open to the truth and now he would work within those boundaries.

He couldn't be a warrior, valiantly fending off rogues and enemy Clans. What he could be, however, was the medicine cat ShadowClan needed him to be. Yet Lionblaze was still Smallpaw's hero - nothing would ever change that.

She nodded. Suddenly, Petalnose gave him a lick on his cheek. Smallpaw's expression twisted slightly, feeling a stinging pain flared up from his cheek wound. "Who gave you that?" Petalnose inquired, her voice low.

"Stormstar."

"You tried to fight Stormstar?!" Petalnose let out a horrified gasp, "you're lucky he didn't tear you to shreds!"

Smallpaw responded, "he realised really quickly I wasn't a. . .an apprentice." he meowed.

His mentor gave him a swift cuff over the ears, "you're lucky _I_ don't tear to shreds! How mouse-brained could you be!" she scolded.

"I'm sorry, Petalnose." he responded quietly.

Petalnose sighed though still furious, "you don't ever do that again, okay? You had me worried sick."

The young tom looked up at her, hope shining in his eyes. "I promise. I won't mope about again."

While Smallpaw was beginning to embrace his destiny as a medicine cat, there was still one daunting challenge before him; how exactly was he going to be like Lionblaze now? Petalnose had said he could do it through his spirit, but what did that exactly entail? "Petalnose?" he meowed.

"Yes?"

"How _exactly_ am I supposed to be like Lionblaze through my spirit?" Smallpaw asked innocently. While this may have been seen as a challenge to some, his question was genuine. He had only ever thought of being fierce, noble, and fair just as his hero had been; the epitome of a warrior. The young tom was at a loss of what to do. He was a dim firefly trying to be as bright as the stars. He needed help.

His mentor met his gaze, "you'll figure it out as you go," she answered. Petalnose gave Smallpaw an affectionate nuzzle, "but I'll be here to support you."

While the young tom was deeply disappointed with the answer, _I don't know if she knows how. She probably told me that so I would feel better about being a medicine cat apprentice,_ he thought to himself. Smallpaw accepted the sign of affection, "okay." he meowed. It seemed so daunting, especially when being a warrior would have made fulfilling his dream much simpler.

Smallpaw felt stranded, how was he supposed to go about it without guidance? He never got time to continue thinking as Petalnose ushered him back into the medicine cat den to continue their duties. He followed his mentor, but his steps were tentative as if he was approaching a badger den.

As of now, Smallpaw felt like he was stumbling around in the pitch black. _I can still be like him, can't I?_ he tried to reassure himself, but doubt was beginning to weigh heavy on his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

ShadowClan had began the rebuilding process. Just as Blazetail had ordered, warriors who had light wounds, perhaps only a few scratches, had surveyed the barrier to the Clan camp. Soon thereafter, the deputy sent out a second set of orders; a patrol is to scan the territory for any WindClan cats, if they are found then they are to be chased off.

Unfortunately, the young Brackenpaw was not a cat selected for the patrol. Instead, he was to repair the barrier. With a frown and green eyes glittering with annoyance, he carried a load of brambles in his maw.

Brackenpaw was a golden-brown tabby tom with short fur. His body was slim and fit, a testament to his warrior training. Though Brackenpaw's warrior training did not reflect mentally as it did physically; this was probably the reason why he was kept in camp.

Still he resented the decision made by Blazetail. The young cat was an apprentice who had to prove himself in order to become a warrior, he should be out hunting for any stragglers of the WindClan raiding party. How could he prove himself by repairing a barrier?

Sullenly, Brackenpaw made his way over to where the other apprentices to enact his duties. After he put the brambles he was carrying down on the ground, he could only stare at the barrier. How was he supposed to do this again? Was Brackenpaw supposed to just insert the brambles wherever they fit?

He didn't get to ponder long before a voice spoke to him, "are you going to stare at the barrier until it fixes itself?" it asked sharply.

Brackenpaw sighed, "no, but are _you_ going to nag at it until it does?"

The name of the cat who had spoken was Rookpaw; a black tom with amber eyes. Brackenpaw always felt a surge of dread being around his friend. It was not because Rookpaw was an intimidating character but rather he was uptight and bossy. The golden-brown tabby didn't have insight as to why Rookpaw was he the way he was, he could only assume it was because Blazetail was Rookpaw's father and thus believed he could command the other apprentices through the blood they shared.

The black cat gave an irritated flick of his tail, "you can't do this half-heartedly, we need a strong barrier!" he took some of the brambles dropped by his friend, inserting them wherever they would fit. Afterwards, he tested the security of his work and was satisfied with the results.

"I know that," Brackenpaw responded, doing the same thing. "Would you lighten up for once? Sweet StarClan's kits you're so uptight!"

Rookpaw turned to him, "our camp was just raided." he dryly pointed out.

Indignantly, Brackenpaw shrugged; "so? It's not like anyone died or anything. Plus, we were going to win from the get-go, have you _seen_ how many warriors we have?"

Rookpaw looked around. In truth, the golden-brown tom hadn't realised how many cats ShadowClan had now. The past few seasons hadn't been particularly harsh, even the past few Leaf-bares had decent prey running. Even now, in the first month of the coldest season, no cat was particularly lean.

"You're right, there is a lot of us." he frowned.

Brackenpaw's face twisted in confusion, "are you worried or something? It's a good thing there's so many warriors."

"It's not," Rookpaw shook his head, flicking his tail towards the fresh-kill pile, "the fresh-kill pile's only ever half-full any more."

The golden-brown cat only then noticed the fresh-kill pile. Currently, there was only a few pieces of prey left now and only StarClan knew how fresh they were. Not only that, but the muscles of all warriors were lean; even Blazetail. He turned his attention back to his task, "I guess we should hunt later then." he meowed, securing more brambles.

"If we're allowed to leave camp that is." Rookpaw reminded, testing the strength of the barrier and finding himself satisfied.

Brackenpaw shrugged, "the Clan will be happy to have some _fresh_ fresh-kill, I don't think they'll mind."

"The Warrior Code says that the leader's word is law. If we can't leave camp; we can't leave camp." the black cat reminded.

"Oh? But what if the Clan's starving?" challenged Brackenpaw.

Rookpaw's pelt bristled with indignation, "are you mouse-brained enough to think that Silverstar would forbid us from hunting if ShadowClan was starving?"

Brackenpaw replied, "it's a 'what if?' though, it doesn't have to make sense."

Bluntly, he replied, "you're actually mouse-brained."

"StarClan, you're so boring." the golden-brown tabby sighed.

Silence fell on the two toms as they worked. Now that Rookpaw had pointed it out, Brackenpaw couldn't help but let dread fill his being. It was only early Leaf-bare, yet the fresh-kill pile was only in a state seen in late Leaf-bare. He had to swallow the lump in his throat, turning his attention back to his task. Everything was fine, nobody had hunted today so it was obvious that not much prey would be left.

After a few minutes of working, Brackenpaw suddenly spoke; "y'know, I saw _Smallpaw_ trying his luck against Stormstar." there was a small smirk on his face and a slight chuckle in his voice.

The little white-and-black cat was both his and Rookpaw's friend. While Brackenpaw liked him, he found Smallpaw to be a bit too interested in his training and everything that came with being a warrior apprentice. In fact, he had asked Brackenpaw to teach him a few moves, which he half-heartedly did if he hadn't forgotten about it. Yet Smallpaw wasn't satisfied and asked Rookpaw; who was less than willing to teach him.

The black cat gave an irritated snort, "that serves him right, then. I'm fed up with him hovering around us after we come back from training - he better have learned what his place is."

Brackenpaw's face twisted in disagreement, "that's a little harsh, don't you think?"

Rookpaw paused for a second, "maybe that was a poor choice of words, but it's true; Smallpaw's not meant to be a warrior."

"He's determined, though." the golden-brown tabby commented, placing some brambles inside the barrier.

The black cat gave a bitter reply, "he's in denial is what. Smallpaw can barely collect herbs without coming back out of breath."

"I saw Petalnose talking to him before we had to fix this barrier."

"She better have gotten through that thick skull of his."

Brackenpaw didn't approve of Rookpaw's tone, but he did have a point. Their friend was simply too frail to be a warrior of ShadowClan. He was curious as to the origin of Rookpaw's distain for their friend's dream. "How come you're so against him being a warrior?" he casually asked.

Rookpaw sighed, "because he'll end up hurting himself a lot more than physically if he's caught up in some fantasy. Plus, he's got an extremely important role to play in this Clan and he can't do that if he's got his head in the clouds."

"Ahhh, right. I get you." he responded. Just then, Brackenpaw saw Smallpaw exit the medicine cat den. There was something different about him. The little cat was still as meek and thin as ever, but his amber eyes looked completely different. Usually, they were full of a hidden sadness but also a certainty within them; Smallpaw was always certain that he wanted to be a warrior.

But, right now, they seemed to full of uncertainty. It was as if he was unsure about something, lost and confused on what to do. When Brackenpaw called him over, Smallpaw seemed startled. He must have been lost in thought.

"Hi, Brackenpaw." Smallpaw mumbled.

"Hey, Smallpaw. So I saw you trying to fight Stormstar, you've got some stones to try that." the golden-brown tom purred.

The medicine cat apprentice's ears flattened against his head in embarrassment, turning his gaze away from Brackenpaw. "Y-yeah, that was mouse-brained of me."

"You bet your tail is was." Rookpaw muttered under his breath.

Brackenpaw flicked his ear, having heard the black cat's comment. "So, what're you up to?" he asked Smallpaw.

Smallpaw seemed unsure of what to say, "um. . .I think I'm going to get some prey, if either of you two want to join."

"Sure."

"I'm going to make sure my mother's alright since the barrier's repaired." Rookpaw declined, giving them a farewell just before he left.

Both Smallpaw and Brackenpaw picked a scrawny mouse from the fresh-kill pile, sharing it with one another. It was hardly filling, but it was the only thing in the pile that was remotely warm. The warrior apprentice ended up eating most of it as the white-and-black cat's appetite disappeared after a few bites as it usually did.

"Brackenpaw?"

"What?"

"H-how do you think I could be like Lionblaze, but still stay a medicine cat?" Smallpaw inquired.


	3. Chapter 3

How to be like Lionblaze but still _stay_ a medicine-cat?" repeated Brackenpaw.

Smallpaw shyly nodded. He would never let go of his dream of becoming like his hero - it meant too much to him to just give up on. But the little white-and-black cat felt lost, unsure of what to do. Emulating Lionblaze seemed as difficult as ever. The nobility, fierceness, and fairness Smallpaw so admired were not so easy to integrate into his medicine-cat role. He needed help.

The golden-brown tabby furrowed his brow in thought, humming lowly. "Just. . .be a really good medicine-cat I guess?" he offered.

"No I meant like in spirit, not being the best at my role."

"His spirit?" Brackenpaw repeated, sounding part confused and part amused.

The medicine-cat apprentice became flustered as he grew hot under his pelt, "H-his qualities, like. . .um, h-how he was really f-fierce a-a-and, um. . .yeah."

"Oh. Yeah I've got nothing, sorry."

Smallpaw frowned, his amber eyes glittering with disappointment. He was hoping that Brackenpaw could help him out, but he guessed Petalnose was right; this was something he would have to figure out for himself. The tomcat would have to mull it over whenever he got some time to himself. Even then, it was one thing to know what to do; it was an entirely different endeavour to go through with it - it would be an arduous task indeed.

He nodded in understanding, "thanks anyways." Smallpaw replied, trying not to sound too disappointed. Brackenpaw was a good friend, but he wasn't the most reliable cat in ShadowClan. Smallpaw could ask Rookpaw, but he found the black cat to be somewhat overly blunt. He doubted that Rookpaw would entertain him anyways.

Brackenpaw gave him a reassuring lick on the ear. "Aww, don't be down, Smallpaw. I mean, yeah, you're stuck between a rock and a hard place, but I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Suddenly, something bumped into the little white-and-black tom. It made him jump slightly as he whirled his head around to inspect what had just collided with him. Smallpaw found that it was a mossball. His amber eyes followed the direction in which the mossball came, finding a shy she-kit approaching him. Outside the nursery, there was a group of kits watching them both.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hit you," she apologised. "Can I have my mossball back?"

Smallpaw opened his mouth to reply, to say of course she could have the mossball, but Brackenpaw interjected; "Sure, but can I see it for a second?"

The she-kit looked up and blinked, tentatively nodding in response. The golden-brown tabby smiled in thanks, picking up the mossball and launching it at an unsuspecting Rookpaw. The black cat grunted in surprise, while Brackenpaw laughed and Smallpaw and the she-kit attempted to suppress their own purrs.

Brackenpaw turned to Smallpaw and boasted, "They should rename me to Hawkeye; 'cause my aim is -oof!" He was cut off as a mossball slammed into the side of his face. He let out a yelp of surprise. "Didn't see that coming." he chuckled as the small she-kit picked up the mossball and scampered away.

"Brackenpaw!" Rookpaw hissed as he stalked up towards the golden-brown tabby.

Brackenpaw, trying to keep a straight face and conceal his laughter, responded; "Yeah? What's up?"

The black cat cuffed him around the ears. "Knock it off. How'd you ever leave the nursery?"

The golden-brown tom shrugged. "Dunno, why weren't you sent to the elders den after your ceremony with an attitude like that?"

Smallpaw could only giggle at them, a slight smile on his face. Brackenpaw and Rookpaw bickering like old mates was always entertaining to say the least. "How's Natalie getting on, Rookpaw? It's only a moon or two until she gives birth, I think," the white-and-black cat meowed.

"Oh? She's getting on fine; thankfully she wasn't hurt during WindClan's raid," the black cat responded.

Natalie was Rookpaw's mother, a loner who had joined ShadowClan around the time Smallpaw's parents had become warriors. She had always been a bit of a controversial character in the Clan as most outsiders to the Clans were, but it only worsened once the she-cat decided to permanently remain a queen. Thankfully, she didn't have to face discrimination for it, especially not when her mate was Blazetail of all cats.

"Hopefully this litter doesn't turn out to be as uptight," Brackenpaw huffed. Again, Rookpaw went to cuff him over the ear. But the other apprentice was ready that time, expertly dodging out of the way. The black cat just huffed irritably in response.

"What have you two been doing? Since the raid, I mean," meowed Smallpaw.

"Repairing the barrier," responded Rookpaw simply.

Brackenpaw huffed. "Should've been part of the patrol, though."

"We should have been, yeah." agreed the black cat.

The little white-and-black tom felt pangs of envy in his heart. It would have been nice to even feel that there was enough of a chance of hunting WindClan stragglers to experience disappointment. But he was a medicine-cat apprentice, not a warrior's apprentice. If he were to be part of any conflict, it would be to tend to the injured. While Smallpaw had accepted his duty within the Clan, it would be impossible for him to overcome his feelings of jealousy so soon.

"Well, I'm going to collect some herbs soon if either of you want to come," the medicine-cat apprentice offered, "Petalnose said I needed an escort or two with everything's that's happened."

"Sure." Brackenpaw agreed.

Rookpaw replied, "I'll go talk to my mentor first."

"Okay, see you in a bit," Smallpaw responded. The warrior apprentice padded off, leaving Smallpaw alone with Brackenpaw once again.

The golden-brown tabby mewed, "So, what herbs need collecting?"

"Some bright-eye, lovage, and some herbs for wounded warriors," answered the medicine-cat apprentice. "Oh! Some cobwebs too."

The tom nodded his head, muttering "Cool."

Rookpaw returned. "Amberfeather says I'm good to go."

"Great," responded Smallpaw.

"Alright, let's go!" Brackenpaw added.

The three tomcats squeezed by the boulder guarding ShadowClan's camp entrance, venturing out into the territory. The tall, crowded pine trees were plentiful and littered the earth with their nettles. They only allowed small patches of light to reach the ground, though that was not the case today as the sky was completely clouded. Only the hardiest of grass survived on ShadowClan territory.

This hardiness also extended to the herbs; ShadowClan medicine-cats rarely had to worry about whether or not certain herbs would survive through Leaf-bare. All Smallpaw had to concern himself with was actually finding the needed herbs.

"We could do some hunting while we're out here," Brackenpaw offered as they walked, "it's still early Leaf-bare - some prey might be out still."

Smallpaw shook his head, "it's far too cold, everything will be in its burrow."

"The ground's frozen solid too," grimaced Rookpaw. He clawed at the ground again and again, barely leaving grooves in the frosty earth.

The golden-brown tabby frowned. "Maybe next time then."

The three apprentices searched the territory for their desired herbs, scouring for several hours yet only coming back with some barely-healthy herbs. The bright-eye, a light pink flower, was only found in a small, wilting cluster; hardly any lovage was collected as a result of its symbiotic relationship with the former in poultices; only a few other herbs were collected, many of which were barely useful in their withering state; cobwebs were the only thing that could be harvested in a decent amount.

Their poor haul filled Smallpaw's stomach with a sense of foreboding. It was easy to see that the icy claws of Leaf-bare had sunk in deep with even normally durable herbs suffering from the cold. This season would be a harsh one indeed.

The trio stopped periodically for both Brackenpaw and Rookpaw to try their luck at hunting. Often, the scents of prey they found were stale yet they persevered. Only Rookpaw was successful, catching a skinny mouse. Even then, his amber eyes glittered with disappointment at his prize.

They walked on in silence. The medicine-cat apprentice found himself deep in thought, _Lionblaze was fair, fierce, and noble. How do I be like that, though? Fair is easy to be, I just need to. . .I need to, um. . .o-okay, how about nobility instead? No, f-fierceness instead._ Smallpaw gave a frustrated sigh, _what do I do? These are warrior qualities, not a medicine-cat's!_

"Something up?" asked Rookpaw, carrying his mouse in his maw.

"N-nothing, I'm just thinking." the little white-and-black cat responded. Maybe he should ask the black cat for help, he might have an idea. Smallpaw briefly glanced over to Brackenpaw, carrying the herbs in his jaws. "Actually. . .can I ask you something, Rookpaw?" The tom mewed meekly.

He replied, "what?"

"I-if you were a medicine-cat, how would you go about being like Lionblaze?"

Rookpaw gave an irritated grunt. "Are you still hung up over that?"

Smallpaw quickly corrected him, "Nonono, I don't care about being a warrior anymore I-I just want to be like Lionblaze, that's all!"

The warrior apprentice slowly nodded his head. "Well if I were you, I would dedicate myself completely to ShadowClan and only ShadowClan."

"But what if another Clan needs a herb only ShadowClan has?"

"If that Clan is going to repay ShadowClan for it, sure. Otherwise, they can make do with what they've got."

Smallpaw frowned. Rookpaw didn't think like a medicine cat would, he was looking at everything through the eyes of a warrior with an accompanying mindset. The black cat was unwilling to help others due to the blood running in their veins. A true medicine cat would disregard such things, no matter if a cat was Clanborn or a kittypet, to help a patient. All wounded cats deserved to be treated, no matter what.

Smallpaw's amber eyes suddenly widened, letting out a small and excited gasp. It dawned on him just how he could emulate the fairness he admired in Lionblaze.


	4. Chapter 4

Smallpaw sniffed at the cracks lining the walls of the medicine-cat den, searching for any of the herbs necessary to treat his patient. His sister, Kestrelpaw, in all her clumsiness had stepped on two thorns which were now deeply embedded in her paw.

What the small white-and-black cat needed was poppyseeds (or raspberry leaves, though they only grew during New-leaf) and marigold or some other form of infection-fighting herb. The scents within the cracks were painfully stale in some places, causing worry to gnaw at Smallpaw's gut. They needed to get more herbs soon but now that they were coming up on mid Leaf-bare it was becoming increasingly difficult.

He placed poppyseed and some marigold onto a small leaf for carrying. Their supply for both herbs were running thin, so Smallpaw took enough to maintain a perfect balance of effectively treating the wound and leaving enough remaining to be used another day.

Smallpaw picked up the leaf in his maw by its tip and stem, allowing him to safely carry it other to his kin. He sat it down gently in front of her. Kestrelpaw was awkwardly gnawing at her paw, her golden eyes flashing with pain every so often as her tail swished in agitation.

"Careful, Kestrelpaw," he gently warned her, "lemme see."

The tom took his sister's paw away from her, inspecting the wound. The flesh around each thorn was red and inflamed. If Smallpaw used the marigold then he could nip the chance of infection in the bud. Kestrelpaw, like any other apprentice or warrior, was needed to help ShadowClan make it through Leaf-bare. Ever so gently, he gently began pulling at one of the thorns and teased it out bit by bit, repeating the process for the other thorn. The tortoiseshell she-cat hissed and whimpered, so he gave her some poppyseeds to numb the pain. Blood welled from the wounds once the thorns were freed.

He chewed the marigold leaves once he was out, spitting it out as a pulp onto the leaf. Smallpaw then dabbed some of it onto his sister's paw, wrapping it up in cobwebs once he was done. "Okay, that should be you. Keep that paw off the ground, so go lie down for the rest of the day," Smallpaw smiled. "Oh! Come see me later if it starts hurting again."

Kestrelpaw nodded, "I will. Thanks, Smallpaw!" she gave him a friendly lick on the cheek.

After sweeping his sister off, watching her limp out of the medicine-cat den, the white-and-black tom turned to his mentor. "How did I do?" he asked, somewhat nervous.

Petalnose gave an approving nod and told him, "You did well. Though, you should have applied the poppyseeds in the first place."

"T-that slipped my mind." Smallpaw sheepishly responded.

The medicine-cat gave him a lick on the ear. "You need to remember the poppyseeds always. What are you going to do if you need to set a broken leg and you didn't give the patient some poppyseeds, hm?"

The apprentice shivered at the thought of having to deal with a cat writhing in agony due to his carelessness. "I'll remember next time, I promise," he responded.

"Good. Now, I think you deserve a break." the tabby she-cat smiled.

Smallpaw nodded thankfully. "Do you want me to bring back some prey?" he asked.

As if to answer his question, Petalnose's stomach growled. It was then that the white-and-black tom realised how thin his mentor had gotten. Her joints were sharp and defined, something that wasn't normal in a healthy cat like herself. The shoulders and haunches were boney too. Her stomach had gotten quite small too, not unlike his own. It was like Petalnose had adopted his frail frame.

He wasn't mousebrained, he knew why his mentor had gotten so skinny. Prey was becoming more rare as Leaf-bare continued, more scarce than it had ever been, so the obvious result was that ShadowClan's cats were getting leaner. Even so, none of them were as lean as Petalnose had become.

Smallpaw wondered if he should voice his concern. He had always been a picky eater with a small appetite, along with his history of sickness and having spent as much time in the medicine-cat den as he had in his mother's nest it made sense that he was skin and bones. He couldn't hide his worry, Petalnose was a healthy cat - so when did she get so thin? "W-when's the last time you had something to eat, P-Petalnose?" he asked.

The medicine-cat frowned, "Smallpaw, we both know that prey has been running low, don't we?"

He nodded.

"Well, other cats could use that to keep their strength up; like queens or kits or the elders. They need to eat more than I do, so I've eating less."

Smallpaw protested, "But you need to keep your strength up! You won't be able to concentrate right if you're starving."

There was a humorous glint in the she-cat eyes, yet there was a hint of understanding like Petalnose knew her apprentice was right. "If you can work fine on an empty stomach, then so can I. On you go, take your break," she replied.

But the little white-and-black tom his mentor, instead nosing at the cracks and crevices lining the walls of the medicine-cat den. He paid close attention to the scents, mentally cataloguing, _no juniper berries, it's not the season for them though; no burnet; is there anything here?!_ but before angst could fully set in, an aroma swept by Smallpaw's nose. _Wait. . .those are ragwort leaves!_ he cried.

The young cat pulled out a generous amount of the leaves, enough to keep Petalnose strong for the rest of the day. Gently, he brought them over to his mentor and put them down. "Eat these, please." Smallpaw meowed, sending a pleading gaze towards her, "I'll get you some heather nectar too if you want, 'cause I know ragwort's bitter."

"I'll be fine, Smallpaw. Thank you." Petalnose bent down to eat the leaves, her face twisting at the bitter-tasting juices covered her taste buds as she chewed. Smallpaw watched, making sure that she wouldn't spit them out or put them back. Once they were all consumed, he gave her a grateful lick on the ear.

He decided to check on the elders, the cold and damp air must be giving at least one of them stiff joints. A fond smile spread across his muzzle, remembering how he had always been so excited as a kit to hear tales about Lionblaze. Smallpaw has probably heard everything there was to know about his hero, everything that made him strive to become the best warrior he could be. That same drive was now being applied to his medicine-cat duties.

While had some success in that field, Smallpaw was still unsure of how to emulate the qualities of fierceness and nobility. Perhaps the elders would provide some insight. The tom exited the medicine-cat den and spotted a group of senior warriors, Blazetail, and Silverstar huddled together.

Immediately, the medicine-cat apprentice knew something serious was being discussed. The white-and-black cat pondered about listening in, but the way that a senior warrior named Twitchfoot's green eyes flickered over to him before going back to his conversation put him off. Hopefully, the outcome of that discussion would be shared with the whole of ShadowClan in due time.

Smallpaw entered the elders den, a friendly smile on his face.

An old ginger tabby, Tigerpelt, flicked his tail in greeting, "Ah, Smallpaw! I thought that was you I scented." His green eyes, while foggy with blindness, still gleamed with happiness.

"Hiya, I was just dropping by to see if anyone needs anything."

The old cat gave a humorous smile, "And here I thought you came by for another Lionblaze story."

Smallpaw laughed in response.

A calico she-cat, Sorrelear, spoke up, "could you get me a mouse, please?"

The young cat nodded, "Of course!" He turned his attention towards the last of the elders, a speckled gray tom. "Do you need anything, Pigeonwing?" inquired Smallpaw.

The retired warrior responded, "Something for my hip, if you will. They're starting to hurt again."

The medicine-cat apprentice meowed, "I can get you some fennel." And with that he exited the den. Most apprentices disliked caring for the elders, partly because it involved nauseous-smelling mouse bile, ticks, and the fact it was used as a punishment for apprentices. But Smallpaw was different, he enjoyed caring for the elders - even before fully accepting his role within ShadowClan.

The little white-and-black cat returned to the elders den, carrying both a mouse by its tail and a bundle of ivy leaves full of fennel. He gave them to the respective cats who requested them and revived a murmuring of thanks from both.

"So how have you been keeping, Smallpaw?" asked Tigerpelt.

Smallpaw settled himself down beside the old tom. "I've been fine."

"I've noticed that you've been a little different this past moon." he commented.

"Well, I don't feel mopey about being a medicine cat anymore." the medicine-cat apprentice admitted.

Pigeonwing, still grimacing from the bitter taste of fennel, commented; "Ah, Stormstar must have hit you a little too hard."

"Pigeonwing!" Sorrelear scolded.

"What? I'm joking." the speckled cat protested.

"No it's alright, Sorrelear," Smallpaw interjected, "it helped me realise that everyone was right from the get-go."

Tigerpelt hummed in thought and finally told him, "If you're happy being a medicine-cat then that's all that matters."

The little white-and-black cat purred in repy. It was nice to receive some encouragement from the elders. "I wanted to be a warrior so I could be like Lionblaze, but I can still be like him as a medicine-cat. I want to be as noble and fierce as he was."

The calico she-cat's features twisted in confusion. "Fierce? Sorry, Smallpaw, but how will you manage that as a medicine-cat?"

He shrugged with mild embarrassment and replied, "I-I'm not sure, honestly. I was hoping that I could get some help from you."

"Noblity..." Tigerpelt murmured, "I can't think about anything more noble than StarClan, call me old fashioned."

Smallpaw furrowed his brow. An integral part of a medicine-cat's duty to their Clan was interpreting messages, omens, and sharing tongues with StarClan. He had to admit he didn't have a strong connection to StarClan - even after being accepted by the Clan's ancestors as ShadowClan's future medicine-cat.

But any time he drank from the Moonpool, Smallpaw's dreams were always hazy and seemed to have no meaning. As medicine-cats were forbidden from discussing their dreams with one another, neither Petalnose nor any of the other medicine-cat knew this. If Smallpaw was to strengthen his connection to StarClan, then he could emulate that nobility he admired in Lionblaze in his own, unique way.

"I get what you're saying," Smallpaw responded, "thank you, Tigerpelt."

"I helped?" the old cat asked.

"Mhm." he purred.

"Ah, well then you're welcome, young'un." the old tom replied.

With that, the medicine-cat apprentice exited the elders den with a smile on his face and a hopeful outlook. He was one step closer to becoming like Lionblaze, all he had left to do was to figure out how to be 'fierce' and then live his life by those principles. It would be easier said than done, but Smallpaw was determined.

He then noticed that Silverstar was perched on the branch hanging over her den. Is she going to announce what her and the senior warriors were talking about? the tom pondered, feeling anxiety gnaw at his gut. It couldn't be good.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highbranch for a Clan meeting!" Silverstar bellowed.

As all of ShadowClan began to gather, Smallpaw sat beside Petalnose. While surrounded by the rest of the Clan, the light brown tabby looked so thin. In fact, none of ShadowClan could be considered anything but lean, even the most stocky warriors looked slim. As the ShadowClan leader opened her mouth, the young cat braced himself.

"As you all know, tonight is the Gathering and it's time to announce who will be attending; Twitchfoot, Nightstep, Icetail, Waspwing, Sleetheart, Petalnose, Smallpaw, Brackenpaw, Whitepaw, and Aspenpaw. Everyone else is to continue with their normal duties, those who were named are to get rest in the time being."

Smallpaw's face fell. He hated the Gathering and would rather spend his time collecting mouse bile. He could ask Silverstar to find someone to take his spot, but how would that look to the rest of the Clan? He had to go, whether or not he wanted to.

But maybe she wouldn't be attending the Gathering tonight. That way, he could at least feel a little less anxious about attending.


	5. Chapter 5

Smallpaw wearily eyed the tree that was used as a bridge to the island, where the Gathering would be taking place. He was never confident about getting on it, having an ever-present fear of slipping off the tree and falling into the water, making a complete fool of himself. He really didn't want to be here and wanted to just go back to camp.

The little white-and-black cat watched as his clanmates hopped on, agilely walking along the length of the dead trunk. Brackenpaw approached him, "what? Are you waiting for an invitation, Smallpaw?" he playfully asked.

Smallpaw shook his head, "I was just waiting for everybody else to go."

"I getcha, bringing up the rear and all that. Looking forward to the Gathering?" the golden-brown tabby inquired.

The medicine-cat apprentice half-heartedly shrugged, "I'd rather be back at camp," he replied honestly, "I don't like Gatherings all that much."

With a good-natured cuff on the ear, Brackenpaw replied; "aw, c'mon! You're gonna have to come out of that shell of yours sometime."

"Maybe..." Smallpaw mumbled. His friend wasn't aware as to why he didn't want to attend the Gathering, only assuming that he was shy. Smallpaw would admit that he was a timid cat, but he never thought of himself as shy. There was a cat from another Clan he was dreading to see again - if she was there.

Before meeting her, Smallpaw used to be excited about Gatherings.

"Hurry up, you two!" called Sleetheart from across the trunk.

Brackenpaw responded, "coming!"

The little cat followed his friend across the trunk, taking deliberate and attentive steps as he crossed. The tabby, however, was walking with his usual swagger. Smallpaw wished he had the confidence that Brackenpaw did.

Once they crossed, the friends agreed to talk once the Gathering was over and went their separate ways. Part of Smallpaw wanted to follow after his friend, as to minimise his chances of meeting the she-cat. By he knew that it wouldn't make a difference, especially with the truce going on. He sighed to himself, looking around him at the clowder of cats.

The little white-and-black tom could see that at least three other Clans were present. Scenting the air, he identified them as RiverClan, WindClan, and SkyClan. Things would be tense between his own Clan and WindClan, hopefully a fight wouldn't break out and Smallpaw was also hoping that Stormstar wouldn't recognise him. He didn't need to deal with the shame that encounter would definitely bring.

Smallpaw could see, close to the base of the tree announcements were made, that the leaders of the respective Clans were making small talk. Gorsestar and Pebblestar, the respective leaders of SkyClan and RiverClan, were making idle chat while Stormstar sat stoically by himself. Once Silverstar approached, the air around the two leaders became tense. Smallpaw didn't watch for much longer, instead opting to search for the other medicine-cat apprentices.

As he looked around, the small white-and-black tom noticed something about the SkyClan cats - they were all extremely thin. Some of them were as thin as the cats in ShadowClan. Was the prey on all the Clan territories scarce too? The medicine-cat apprentice looked around; ThunderClan's cats were lean, but not dangerously too; WindClan's cats, lithe and long-legged, didn't seem much worse for wear; RiverClan all seemed a decent weight too.

Smallpaw was hit by the realisation - this was only a ShadowClan/SkyClan issue. The two Clans bordered one another, SkyClan having a sizeable piece of land that used to ShadowClan territory before they moved to the lake.

Smallpaw didn't have much time to think about it as he soon found Juniperpaw, the medicine-cat apprentice of RiverClan. "Hello." he greeted.

"Hi, Smallpaw." Juniperpaw responded with a slight smile. She was a cute, petite she-cat around the hight of Smallpaw. She had short calico fur and green eyes. "How are you?" she inquired.

"Oh, me? I'm okay," he responded, "how are you?"

Juniperpaw replied, "I'm good! Did you see Bluepaw on your way here at all?"

Smallpaw shook his head, "he'll be here soon, but I'm just hoping she isn't." he admitted.

"Mallowpaw?" the calico she-cat guessed.

Sighing, the little white-and-black tom nodded. You would think that with a name like Mallowpaw, she would be a pleasant she-cat but that was hardly the case. She was a bully who targeted Bluepaw, Juniperpaw, and himself for what seemed to be no reason. From what Blue paw had told them, other apprentices didn't get grief from her but she certainly wasn't nice to them - the ThunderClan medicine-cat apprentice got it the worst though. Smallpaw couldn't help but feel sympathy for him.

Suddenly, a tall and lithe tom walked up to them. He was covered in blue-gray fur and had blue eyes. He scent wafted into Smallpaw's nose, it was distinctly ThunderClan though it was there was a strong scent of herbs too.

"Hi, Bluepaw." Juniperpaw greeted.

He responded with a smile, "hello, you two."

Smallpaw felt anxiety gnawing away at his stomach. Bluepaw seemed to be happy, so did that mean Mallowpaw wasn't around? "Um. . .B-Bluepaw?" he meowed, meekly.

The other tom looked at him, "is something wrong, Smallpaw?"

"I-is. . .um, is s-she here?" the little white-and-black cat stuttered.

Juniperpaw looked up to Bluepaw, worry in her eyes.

The ThunderClan apprentice gulped, "yeah, she's here. But - I was the first cat to actually get on the island and I made my way over here first thing," he explained, "so she doesn't know where we are."

"You didn't because some cats can actually track," a voice scorned, "it's not hard to follow someone who _reeks_. You better fix that, or else you're going to scare away all the prey around the lake."

Stalking towards the trio was Mallowpaw. She was a white she-cat, as her name would imply, with a slender and fit build. Her pale green eyes were locked on them, sending chills running down the ShadowClan apprentice's spine. He tried not to look her in the eye, just in case she took it the wrong way.

Instead, he looked to Bluepaw. It was clear that her insult had stung him, evidenced by the flash of sadness in his eyes and the way he frowned. The tom attempted to brush it off, "ah, well, it's what happens when you're in the medicine-cat den."

"Don't blame the den because you stink like crowfood." the white she-cat rebutted.

Smallpaw mustered up some courage, wanting to stick up for his friend. "Hey, b-back off." he tried to sound strong, as if trying to intimidate Mallowpaw or at the very least mske her go away. But the stutter in his voice wrecked any chance of that happening - if there was any chance at all. Who would be intimidated by his frail frame and meek body language, especially when they were bigger than him?

The she-cat's attention was then focused on him, "what was that, runt?" she coldly demanded.

The measly amount of courage that he had summoned instantaneously evaporated in that moment. "I-I said b-back o-o-off." he repeated, shrinking in on himself. Mallowpaw was soon looming over him and he instinctively looked towards the ground.

"What, you think I'm going to listen to you? You couldn't fight off a kit let alone me, so how about _you_ back off before I make you." Mallowpaw growled, her breath was hot in his ear.

Smallpaw felt his fur bristle, his amber eyes wide. Panic coursed through him, were they going to fight? They would both get into serious trouble but he doubted she cared. _Stand up to her, don't let her talk to you and your friends like that!_ he urged himself, _you only have to do it once, bullies stop once you stand up to them!_

"Got something to say, runt? Then say it!"

The little white-and-black tom tried to glare up at her, though he must have looked pathetic. There were tears in his eyes, brought on by fear of physical harm and frustration at his inability to be brave. His fur was fluffed up, like a kit that got spooked by thunder. Smallpaw stood there, trying to look tough will sniffling.

She turned to Juniperpaw, "and what about you, mangepelt? Are you going to try and act smart too?"

The calico she-cat stammered, "um. . .n-no..."

Mallowpaw turned back to Smallpaw, looking down on him with distain, "you are so pathetic. Next time, watch your mouth or I won't be so nice, runt." she finished by giving the ShadowClan apprentice a rough cuff over the ear. She stalked off afterwards.

The white-and-black tom stumbled, watching his and his friends' tormentor walk off. He tried to blink away his tears. He wanted to be like Lionblaze? Yeah right. He couldn't even stand up to Mallowpaw without crying like a kit. She was right - he was pathetic.

"Are you okay?" Juniperpaw asked, clearly concerned. Bluepaw didn't say anything, but he rested the tip of his tail on Smallpaw's shoulder.

The ShadowClan apprentice nodded, "I'm okay." he choked.

The calico she-cat turned her attention to Bluepaw, "what about you, Bluepaw?" she asked.

He replied, "I'm fine. But I don't smell, do I?" he asked, sniffing at his own pelt.

Smallpaw shook his head and Juniperpaw told him "no."

"I don't get why Mallowpaw's so prickly," the RiverClan cat huffed, "what did _we_ ever do?"

"I don't know, but she's given me grief since we became apprentices," replied Bluepaw while he groomed his fur, "It's my fault she picks on you two, maybe if I stop talking to you she'll leave you alone."

Smallpaw sighed, "it's not your fault, Bluepaw. She would still be harassing us anyways."

Before the conversation could continue, the Gathering started. The three medicine-cat apprentices listened carefully, Smallpaw occasionally sniffling and feeling awful the whole time. He just wanted to go home now.

ThunderClan's leader, Tawnystar, was the first to speak; "ThunderClan has been coping with Leaf-bare well this year, prey has been plentiful - well, as plentiful as the season allows-" a chuckle rumbled through the crowd at her comment, "-that's all I have to report. Ripplestar?"

The gray she-cat replied, "thank you, Tawnystar." she then turned to the clowder of cats, "RiverClan has been doing well this Leaf-bare, too. We have had no problems concerning prey and one of our queens, Minnowtail, has given birth to three healthy kits."

There was a murmur of congratulations throughout the crowd. Smallpaw allowed a small smile to adorn his lips, the birth of a kit was always something to be celebrated.

Ripplestar continued, "she had two she-kits and one tom; the she-kit's names are Mistykit and Rainkit, the tom's name is Stormkit. I have nothing else to report." she then looked towards the SkyClan leader, "Gorsestar?"

Gorsestar had always been a lean tom, yet he always had rippling muscle underneath his short white-and-brown tabby coat. However, he was skinnier than the branch he was perched upon. If Smallpaw had been sitting closer to the tree, he could imagine that alarm suddenly shot through his pale amber eyes.

It was clear to any cat with common sense that both ShadowClan and SkyClan were in a bad way, but if the leaders were to admit that at a Gathering? They would have to reap the potential consequences. Just because there was a truce in place right now, it didn't mean it would be upheld tomorrow.

"SkyClan is doing fine, we have nothing of value to report." Gorsestar announced calmly. It was a short and concise answer. Before any speculation or theories could be crafted about SkyClan's real condition, he looked to Stormstar, "and what about WindClan?"

Stormstar's deep voice rumbled in the night air, "WindClan couldn't be better. The moors are running well, several of our apprentices have became warriors, and one of our queens - Heathersong - very recently gave birth." he proudly announced.

"He always says something like that that." commented Bluepaw.

Juniperpaw added, "either that, or some kits became apprentices."

Smallpaw noticed that too. He remembered the last Gathering he attended, where Stormstar announced something eerily similar but with different language. If that was to be believed, then WindClan was truely blessed by StarClan. He briefly pondered the dark thought of ShadowClan and SkyClan having been cursed for some unknown sin, but he quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. They were having a tough Leaf-bare - that was all.

"What are their names?" a RiverClan cat called out.

"Heathersong hasn't decided yet, she only gave birth yesterday."

There was a muttering of understanding from all cats.

Silverstar then spoke up, "ShadowClan was been well, also. However, I noted that Stormstar failed to mention the failed raid by WindClan on our camp-" accusingly, she added, "-and I demand to know why they did it!"

As the two leaders turned on one another, glaring and growling, their Clans did too. Smallpaw whimpered, huddling closer to his companions as he watched his Clanmates hiss and spit at WindClan. Even in their weakened state, ShadowClan warriors were more than willing to deliver justice.

"Why?" repeated the gray cat, "because your territory holds a herb my Clan needs that you wouldn't give us!"

Smallpaw's face twisted in confusion. A herb? But no WindClan cat ever came to their camp asking for permission to take a herb - not even their medicine cat! Stormstar was lying, and every cat in ShadowClan and WindClan knew it.

"Lair!" Silverstar spat. Her words were echoed by other ShadowClan cats, but the little white-and-black tom was not one of them. The tension between the two cats was like lightning in the air, but before anything could transpire a cat called out;

"The moon!" they yowled, "look at the moon!"

Every cat present froze, veering their heads upwards to find that clouds had covered the moon.

Ripplestar, her face grim, called out, "StarClan is angered. This Gathering is over."

With tension still present, all of the Clan made their way back home one by one. ShadowClan was the first to leave, sending suspicious and hostile glares in WindClan's direction as they departed. Smallpaw's head was swimming now that he had time to digest everything he had been made aware of.

Both ShadowClan and SkyClan were starving and only those two Clans.

Stormstar was lying about his reasons for invading ShadowClan camp - if he had any reasons at all.

He was also constantly repeating the same mantra every Gathering too, using different language to mask it.

Why was the WindClan leader being so shady? What was really going on in that Clan? How bad was the famine in SkyClan? Why was it only that Clan and ShadowClan and not the others?

By this point he had forgotten his encounter with Mallowpaw, it had been replaced by a foreboding threat. Turmoil had crept into ShadowClan, churning and bubbling without anyone noticing - until now. Smallpaw could see it in his Clanmates' faces. They were anxious.

Smallpaw was afraid that things would get worse as Leaf-bare dragged on.

Much worse.


	6. Chapter 6

From the entrance of the medicine-cat den, Smallpaw looked up at the gray sky with curious amber eyes. _Is it going to rain? Or is it going to snow?_ he wondered. It was certainly cold enough to snow. Frost was setting in and he could see his breath now.

Prey had been scarce the entirety of Leaf-bare, but now it was like the prey had just left the forest. Even the best hunters were coming back from long hunting trips with almost nothing to show for it. Every cat in ShadowClan was practically skin and bones at this point.

The tom looked down at his own stomach which seemed to be non-existent. Smallpaw had been thin but never this thin. He looked back to his mentor behind him, his amber eyes filled with concern. Even through her long fur, he could still see her ribs.

Petalnose was sorting herbs, whatever was left anyways, but she kept making mistakes. It must be because of hunger, there was no doubt about it. Smallpaw exited the den, heading towards the dwindling fresh-kill pile to grab something for her. It must have been days ago since she last ate.

In a way, Smallpaw found it inspirational. His mentor was so dedicated to her role that the Clan's needs came before her own in every regard. It made him want to go to the lengths that she went to for ShadowClan. At the same time, however, it greatly worried him. Hunger was keeping her from concentrating which could end in disaster. What if she gave someone the wrong herbs? Of course he would correct her mistake if he noticed, but what would happen if he wasn't able to catch it out?

Hunger was affecting his concentration anyways. Maybe it wasn't as severe as Petalnose's, but he did find himself getting his thoughts muddled up. If his mentor didn't want to eat the whole thing, then maybe they could share.

But while the tom might have had some trouble thinking, the last Gathering was always something he could think clearly about. The secretive WindClan was becoming a big problem for his Clan, as if they didn't have enough already.

But what stuck out to Smallpaw was the use of the word 'herb' in Stormstar's reasoning for attacking ShadowClan camp. It was so vague, like he didn't know what exact herb they were supposedly being denied. He wondered, did any of the other Clans think it was purposely vague?

Now that he thought about it, he hardly knew a thing about WindClan! He never talked to an apprentice or a warrior before. Smallpaw would do that at the next gathering to see if the Clan was as hush-hush as he thought it was.

 _That's what Lionblaze would do, right?_ He pondered.

Smallpaw shivered as a biting cold wind rolled by. His fur became fluffed out, making him look like a kit more than he already did. But he ignored it, _I'll fix it later._ he thought. The medicine-cat apprentice approached the fresh-kill pile and began to nose through it. Everything in it was mostly scrawny, making the little white-and-black cat frown. He needed something with a little meat on it.

He heard the sounds of pawsteps approaching him. The medicine-cat apprentice raised his head to see who was coming, find his two friends; Brackenpaw and Rookpaw. Both toms had lost so much weight recently.

The golden-brown tom looked tired, his eyes holding a dull look in them. Out of the three of them, he had been the most muscled. Now, he was leaner than a WindClan warrior and then some.

The black tom was also extremely thin and as equally as exhausted. He was also visibly anxious, shuffling his twitchy paws and his fur was bristled.

"Hi, guys." Smallpaw greeted.

"Hey." came Brackenpaw's lethargic response.

"Hi." Rookpaw murmured.

Concern tugged at the small white-and-black tom, making him frown deeper. Rookpaw was usually calm and confident, or agitated when dealing with the golden-brown tom at his side the very least. To see him so nervous was surreal. "Is something wrong, Rookpaw? You can come to the medicine-cat den if you want." Smallpaw offered.

"What? No I'm fine," He replied, "but it's my mother I'm worried about."

The medicine-cat's ears pricked up. "Is something wrong with Natalie?" he inquired. The queen was due to give birth any day now, if she contracted any illnesses it could cause complications during the birth of the kits.

The black cat shook his head, "not really. But with the Clan starving, I'm just worried about her."

Brackenpaw chimed in, "between you and Blazetail, I'd be surprised if she ever went hungry."

"Thank you." Rookpaw wearily smiled.

The golden-brown tabby gave the best grin he could with his lack of energy, which came off as half-hearted at best. "Don't mention it."

Smallpaw continued to look for a good piece of prey, eventually finding a vole that was serviceable. "It was nice talking to you, but I have to go now." he meowed, picking up the fresh-kill and retreating back to the medicine-cat den as his friends bade him farewell.

He entered the den, padding up to his mentor while she was counting herbs. Petalnose was murmuring to herself, counting the number of borage leaves they had. She miscounted, then began again.

The little white-and-black cat put the vole down and made his presence known. "Petalnose?"

His mentor give a quiet yelp in surprise. "Oh, Smallpaw! I didn't see you there." she gave a fatigued smile.

He nudged the fresh-kill towards the tabby she-cat. "You need to eat."

Initally, it seemed that Petalnose was going to refuse until she saw Smallpaw's pleading eyes. With a more enthusiastic smile, she accepted the vole. "Thank you." she purred, digging into the fresh-kill. He gave her a grateful lick on the ear.

While his mentor ate, the medicine-cat apprentice catalogued the herb stock for her. They didn't have much herbs he realised, which sent a stab of worry through his heart. Would they last such a harsh Leaf-bare? How many herbs would they need to use?

Hopefully, not many.

Once he was done sorting the herbs, he heard Silverstar outside the den. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highbranch for a Clan meeting!"

Petalnose looked at him with worry, "we better go see what it is."

Neverously, Smallpaw shifted. "D-do you think it's something bad?"

The she-cat gave him a lick on the forehead then rested her chin between his ears. "I'm not sure," the tabby she-cat admitted, "but Silverstar is a good leader. If ShadowClan is hurting, she knows what to do."

The small tom nodded. It was reassuring to hear that, whatever was happening, it was under control. They exited their den and sat beneath the Highbranch. Looking up at Silverstar, seeing how horribly thin she was, it made anxiety bubble within him.

Despite how frail she looked, the ShadowClan leader's eyes were full of strength. "ShadowClan is in grave danger, whether or not any of us acknowledged it until now; we're starving," she sombrely started. "In all my moons, I've never seen such a harsh Leaf-bare,"

There was a moment of silence before Silverstar started talking again. Despite it only being a heartbeat, Smallpaw didn't think it could have lasted longer. It was like time had stopped once Silverstar paused and would only march on once she began to speak.

"But mark my words - we will not die." The ShadowClan leader declared.

A warrior rasped, "what's the use of inspiration at a time like this?! That won't fill our bellies!"

"Let her finish!" another snapped.

"Unless her speech is going to make my kits' stomachs full, then I don't see a point in this meeting!" a queen shot back.

"Silence!" Silverstar yowled.

Nervously, Smallpaw looked at the warriors around him. Discontent in the air was palpable, almost suffocating in a way. Right now, nobody was happy and they would only grow more restless as the meeting would go on. A worst case scenario played in his mind's eye, seeing ShadowClan overthrowing Silverstar. He pushed it away into a dark corner where it belonged. She was a good leader.

Once everyone was silent and paying attention, the ShadowClan leader continued. "I understand your discontent, it's what pushed me to call this meeting," Silverstar meowed, sounding softer this time around. "Which is why, until the prey returns, queens, kits, and elders will be having the majority of the prey. Warriors can still eat, but we will only take one piece a day - share it between each other if you can."

Murmurs bounced around the crowd, mixed with surprise and approval. "Shouldn't warriors get more prey? What if WindClan attacks again?" a warrior, Sootclaw, asked.

"I see no problem in allowing the future of this Clan to flourish and rewarding those who served it until they no longer could. ShadowClan's warriors are the best the Clans have to offer. If WindClan didn't learn that from last time, then they're mousebrained." the ShadowClan leader levelled. "But I have a solution to your problem, Sootclaw."

There was a pause.

"I am personally going to ask Gorsestar if both our Clans can share hunting rights to the territories."

There was a collective shocked gasp from the clowder of cats.

"You want _help_ from SkyClan!?" someone shrieked.

"Of course, am I supposed to let this Clan suffer because of pride?" Silverstar challenged. "Both Clans are starving in case you hadn't noticed at the last Gathering. This plan has lots more benefits than downsides, I assure you."

Smallpaw felt as if he should be experiencing shock rather than admiration at this moment. Such a controversial decision could have led to turmoil in the Clan or negatively affect her image within and outside the Clan. Yet she risked in all for ShadowClan. Petalnose had been right about her and it brought a smile to his face.

Silverstar meowed, "is everything settled? Good. Blazetail will be in charge during my absence. Oakfoot and Ivypelt will accompany me." she stated. The silver tabby jumped down from the Highbranch and to the ground.

The crowd began to disperse while the named warriors followed after her. Smallpaw thought that they would head straight for the boulder guarding ShadowClan's camp entrance.

He was taken completely off guard when they walked right up to him.

"You will also be coming, Smallpaw." she said.

With wide eyes, the little white-and-black cat stammered. "M-m-me?"

Silverstar nodded. "It would be a good learning experience for you, especially since you might be involved in similar affairs once you're a fully-fledged medicine-cat."

"O-oh, that makes sense." he mumbled.

The small group of four headed for the entrance, slipping by the massive rock concealing it. Smallpaw felt both excitement and dread swirling inside him. Both Clans were at their weakest. They had to collaborate if they wanted to see the end of this oppressive Leaf-bare.

But would it be enough to save them?


	7. Chapter 7

SkyClan was a concept that Smallpaw found odd. Not because it was a fifth Clan which some cats found perplexing. They argued that the lake could only realistically support four Clans, despite the fact that SkyClan was doing just fine.

What Smallpaw found odd was their name; SkyClan. The prefix before 'Clan' usually told you what the Clan was particularly good at or a defining trait of their territory. For example; ShadowClan territory was shady due to the close-knit pine trees that made up the territory and their warriors hunted at night along with having an affinity for stealth, thus they were named ShadowClan.

But what was SkyClan good at? What made them unique as a Clan? Were their warriors exceptional at catching birds? The ShadowClan cat didn't truely know, nor had he ever been to their camp. Perhaps the day would be the day he found out.

The patrol walked further up into ShadowClan territory with Silverstar leading the way. The small white-and-black cat knew that long ago, before even the elders were born, that SkyClan moved to the lake. They had been forced out of their home by a nefarious group of rogues and journeyed to the lake in order to find a new home. The elders had gone into great detail when they had told him the story as a kit. The outcome was the temporary disbanding of ShadowClan before their reformation under the old leader Tigerstar.

It was funny to think that Tigerstar, a leader admired by many ShadowClan cats, had been the grandson of a tyrant with the same name who used the Clan for his own ends.

Now the two Clans split the former ShadowClan's territory evenly, with SkyClan taking the north and modern ShadowClan the south. As the continued their trek, Smallpaw felt anxiety gnaw away at his stomach.

"Umm, S-Silverstar?" The little tom mewed.

The ShadowClan leader's ears swivelled around, letting him know she was paying attention.

"What are we going to do if Gorsestar sends us away?" he asked.

It seemed as if the warriors accompanying them, Oakfoot and Ivypelt, had been thinking the same thing. They both looked towards their leader, fretfully they awaited an answer.

Silverstar responded. "Gorsestar may be inexperienced compared to the other leaders and myself, but he has a good head on his shoulders. He'll see that both of our Clans need to work together if we want to make it through Leaf-bare."

Smallpaw hadn't been to many gatherings, but from what he had seen of Gorsestar he knew that his own leader was speaking the truth. The tom seemed to be a cat that chose his words carefully. His report on SkyClan at the last Gathering supported the apprentice's view of him.

They soon approached the border, crossing over into SkyClan territory. While it was another Clan's territory, the terrain remained largely the same at first. But it soon began changing as they walked further into the territory. The pine trees that largely populated ShadowClan and the edges of SkyClan territory were becoming more sparse. Hills became more prominent.

 _Maybe they're called SkyClan because of the hills; it means they're closer to the sky in a way._ Mused Smallpaw. Briefly, he wondered if Lionblaze had ever interacted with SkyClan during his lifetime. If so, he was eagerly awaiting to hear that tale.

"How in the name of StarClan can they stand all these hills!" Oakfoot complained, "what can you even catch here!?"

Ivypelt responded dryly. "Rabbits. Lots of rabbits."

The brown tabby huffed. "Someone tell SkyClan that that's WindClan's thing."

Smallpaw giggled at the two's exchange. But the white she-cat was right; rabbits must be plentiful in this kind of terrain along with birds.

The ShadowClan patrol was approaching SkyClan's camp after walking for some time. The little white-and-black cat saw that it was a hollow, with boulders and tangles brambles acting as its barrier. A black cat, carrying a scrawny rabbit, was about to slip in between two rocks to get into camp before he saw them.

The tom froze, green eyes staring at them.

For Smallpaw, the air was ripe with tension. This cat might mistake them for something more hostile than diplomatic and could very easily race into camp and call them intruders.

"Relax," Silverstar began. "We're here to have a talk with Gorsestar. What's your name?"

The tom dropped his rabbit. "Darkpaw." he answered wearily.

"Well, Darkpaw, I need you to tell your leader that I have proposition for him." the ShadowClan meowed.

The SkyClan apprentice picked up his rabbit, slipping in between the rocks and disappearing. Smallpaw wasn't sure if it was the way Silverstar carried herself or if it was something all leaders experienced, but it seemed that she garnered respect wherever she went.

After a few heartbeats, the party entered SkyClan camp one by one. Once inside, the medicine-cat apprentice scanned his surroundings. The most of the dens were made of a combination of rocks, brambles, and leaves. The only exception was a towering den made entirely of rock. There was a large boulder jutting outwards and upwards at an angle.

That must be the leader's den, Smallpaw thought. As the ShadowClan patrol wandered towards the perceived leader's den, SkyClan cats began crowding around them with curious stares and hostile glares. All of them, even the largest cats, were sickly thin. He had to admit, he thought the Clan would be bigger too.

From the leader's den emerged Gorsestar, bounding up the jutting rock to peer down at him. For the first time, Smallpaw was able to see the SkyClan leader up close. Appearance wise, he looked exactly as he did from far away; a predominately white tomcat with splashes of light brown tabby fur. While he thin now, it was clear that he had been a muscular and lean cat.

His eyes, however, are what caught the little white-and-black cat's attention. While they were weary, they held a warmth that Smallpaw had never seen before. He felt that if Gorsestar had been a ShadowClan warrior instead of SkyClan's leader that he would be someone he could look up to.

Gorsestar began to speak. "Hello, Silverstar. I believe you have a proposal?"

ShadowClan's leader nodded, "one that concerns the wellbeing of both our Clans, yes."

"Then why don't you all come in to my den to discuss it." he offered.

The crowd began to disperse as the ShadowClan cats clambered up to his den, a duo of SkyClan warriors tailing them. Smallpaw felt intimidated by them, a weakened warrior was still a warrior after all. He reassured himself that they were there to make sure Gorsestar wouldn't be harmed and that they would stand outside. The small tom wouldn't want them breathing down his neck, that's for sure!

The group entered the den, finding Gorsestar with his tail wrapped around his paws. Silverstar sat on her hunches with her tail brushing against her flank. Smallpaw watched intently; he had never been privy an exchange between leaders except for Gatherings.

"So, what's the issue?" asked the white-and-brown tabby. While he seemed friendly, his voice carried an edge of importance.

Silverstar replied. "I think we both know our Clans are starving, Leaf-bare hasn't been kind to us this time."

"Is it ever?" Gorsestar let out a small 'mrow' of laughter.

The ShadowClan leader gave a polite response. "Please take this seriously, Gorsestar. The future of our Clans could be at stake here."

"I'm sorry, I just wanted the apprentice over there to feel a little more comfortable." he explained, mentioning over to Smallpaw. "It must be scary for him to come out of the nursery and into this mess." the SkyClan leader blinked at him sympathetically.

The medicine-cat apprentice awkwardly shuffled his paws. "T-thank you, but I'm actually ten moons old now." he shyly corrected.

Gorsestar gave an awkward cough. "Sorry." he muttered. He turned his attention back to Silverstar, "so do you have an idea on how to fix our situation?"

The silver she-cat nodded, "I've tried to minimise the damage in my own Clan, but I fear it will only work so well." she admitted. "So I've come to ask if ShadowClan and SkyClan can share hunting rights to the territories temporarily; your Clan is free to hunt in our woods as we are to hunt in your hills."

Smallpaw felt dread and nervousness fill his body as he waited for Gorsestar's response. There was a thoughtful look in the toms amber eyes, he was clearly considering it. He looked to the ShadowClan warriors, who were looking to one another with worry.

What the little white-and-black cat was concerned about was being turned away for the sake of pride. Both Clans could help one another if SkyClan could see past it. However, he knew the warriors were worried for an entirely different, more cynical reason.

Oakfoot and Ivypelt, like any warrior, were concerned about the information that Silverstar gave the white-and-brown tabby. SkyClan's leader was now aware that ShadowClan was at their weakest, why else would they seek out help? He could turn them away and strike when they least expect it.

Slowly, Gorsestar spoke. "I have your word that this is only a temporary arrangement?"

Silverstar nodded. "You have my word." she confirmed.

The tom offered a friendly smile. "Well, you're welcome to stay in our camp for a little while, once you leave I'll announce our agreement."

ShadowClan's leader gave a grateful dip of her head. She dismissed the patrol and as the three cats exited. Just as he left, Smallpaw heard Gorsestar say; "Silverstar, could you tell me what you did in your own Clan about the famine?"

The little white-and-black tom carefully made his way down from the leader's den while the two warriors jumped down, landing gracefully. Smallpaw shot them a jealous look, _I wish I could do that._ he mentally sighed. He headed straight for the medicine-cat den, following the scents of herbs and sickness.

The tom entered the den and SkyClan's medicine cat, Mintfeather. She was a pale gray she-cat with a lighter underbelly and green eyes. There was silver fur around her muzzle, showing her age. "Ah, Smallpaw. It's nice to see you again," she greeted, "how is Petalnose?"

Smallpaw felt a stab of worry at the mention of his mentor, who he was forcing to even eat sometimes. "Umm. . .she's fine." he lied, "I-I thought I could come and help you." his words became fainter, seeing the amount of cats lying in nests.

They all looked sickly. Some has sticky tears in their eyes and others had their noses and maws smeared with mucous - some unfortunate cats were suffering from both. Not a single cat seemed to even notice his presence, whether that was because they were too weak or worse Smallpaw didn't know.

What he did know was that they were all affected by greencough.

He watched as Mintfeather took a mawful of wilting chickweed, giving it to the worse affected cats. Grief tugged at the little tom's heart as he watched SkyClan's medicine-cat helped a kit chew the herbs.

Chickweed was often an alternative to catmint, thought it wasn't nearly as effective. It was like setting a broken leg then giving the patient poppyseeds instead of giving them broom. You weren't truely fixing it; you were simply suppressing it until the herb wore off.

Smallpaw wanted to ask how bad the greencough was, but he could clearly see it. It broke his heart to see some many cats suffer this horribly. The tom helped the best he could, taking chickweed to cats who needed it the most. The atmosphere around them was bleak and hopeless, the tom knew he wasn't helping them get better - he was helping the dying feel more comfortable.

Neither of the medicine-cats had said a word, because there was nothing to say that hadn't already been answered. Smallpaw could see that SkyClan had no catmint simply due to the simple fact Mintwhisker was using chickweed. There was no sort of hope to cling to, especially not when the situation was clear.

Solemly, he wished Mintfeather all the best and exited the medicine-cat den. Soon thereafter, Silverstar gathered the patrol and they began to leave. As they slipped between the rocks, Smallpaw could hear Gorsestar calling a Clan meeting. They walked through the territory, drawing closer to their own home.

"You know," Oakfoot started, "Gorsestar is much friendlier than I thought."

"Maybe a little too friendly." Ivypelt added.

Silverstar meowed. "Perhaps. But it played into our favour today."

Smallpaw huffed somewhat indignantly to himself. "Why does everyone think I'm a little kit?" he wasn't that small, was he? The tom was the same height has most apprentice she-cats. Why anyone confused him for a kit was beyond him.

As they approached ShadowClan camp, Ivypelt began quietly coughing. It didn't last long, maybe for only a few seconds. The little white-and-black tom shot her a concerned look. She couldn't have caught greencough, could she? The white she-cat hadn't interacted with any cat who had greencough, they were all in the medicine-cat den. If any cat was to catch greencough it would be himself.

Once they entered ShadowClan camp, Smallpaw watched as Ivypelt bounded up to her mate; a light ginger tabby named Sandwhisker. They brushed whiskers, purring affectionately to themselves. He would keep an eye on her in case her short-lived cough got any worse.

The little white-and-black tom entered the medicine-cat den. He prayed that SkyClan would recover soon.


	8. Chapter 8

All was quiet in ShadowClan's apprentice den. The cats inside were snoring softly, their sides rising and falling slowly as they slept. Some were curled up in balls, others were stretched out. The frigid air of the night didn't bother them in the slightest thanks to how the den was designed.

Vines hung from the entrance of the den, acting as a barrier to the outside world. It helped to keep the apprentices warm during the harsher seasons. Rookpaw should know that because he suggested they added it to every den.

The black-furred tom couldn't sleep that night, curled up in a ball with his ears angled towards the entrance of the den. Anxiety was gnawing at his mind, like a swarm of tiny insects and making him feel ill. His mother, Natalie, was currently giving birth to her second litter; his new siblings.

Rookpaw wanted to go outside and see if the birth was going smoothly. Even with his ears angled to the outside world, he couldn't make a word out of what any cat was saying. Everything was muffled. But the tom knew that he would only serve as a distraction to Petalnose and Smallpaw. Just like how Smallpaw shouldn't stick his nose in Rookpaw's training; the reverse was also true.

So he resigned himself to the apprentice den, anxiously awaiting news. Rookpaw's body was suddenly racked by a fit of coughs. It was loud enough to cause some apprentices to stir, with the cat closest to him beginning to wake. "Sorry, Kestrelpaw. I didn't mean to wake you." the tom apologised, half-wheezing.

The tortoiseshell she-cat mumbled, "it's okay, my own cough was making it hard to sleep anyways. But how come you're still up?"

"My cough's keeping me up, too." the tom lied.

"I cannot wait until it goes away." mewed Kestrelpaw.

Rookpaw responded, "me too."

For a moment, the den was silent. The black tom was content with it being that way, but he knew it wouldn't last long. Kestrelpaw was a chatty she-cat; something would slip out of her mouth sooner or later. As if on que, she spoke. "Congratulations on your mother giving birth."

Rookpaw became tense, feeling anxiety gnaw at his stomach. "Uh, thanks." he curtly replied. He let out a low sigh.

"What's wrong?" Kestrelpaw inquired.

Again, Rookpaw sighed. "I'm just worried is all."

"About Natalie?" pressed the she-cat.

The black cat held back a prickly response. _Of course I'm worried!_ he thought. He chose to nod in conformation. Kestrelpaw was only asking a question, there was no need for him to be rude to her.

Krestelpaw inched closer to him, putting the tip of her tail on his shoulder. "Aww, that's sweet. But Petalnose and Smallpaw are really good medicine-cats - Natalie's fine." she reassured.

"It's not that," responded the black cat, "I'm worried about my siblings. They'll be treated like I am."

The she-cat looked at him strangely, "what are you talking about?"

It was Rookpaw's turn to be confused. Hadn't she noticed he was treated differently by ShadowClan? "What are _you_ talking about?" he retorted, "everyone expects more from me."

Kestrelpaw's tail lashed irritably behind her. "Because you're just _that_ great?" she rolled her eyes.

He sighed, "I wish that was it." he rested his head against his paws. "It's that I have kittypet blood in me, and my father's the deputy," Rookpaw murmured, "I have to prove that I'm not some softie _and_ I'm just as much of a warrior as my father is at the same time!"

The black cat had always saw it in every ShadowClan cat's eyes. They either expected nothing of him or they expected everything of him. If he made a mistake, nobody was surprised because, after all, his mother used to be a kittypet, or when he achieved something it was only natural because he was Blazetail's kit. He couldn't win.

His siblings would have to face that now. However, unlike him, they had each other to find solace in. Rookpaw had been the only kit, his sister had died shortly after the birth. He alone had to face the expectations or lack there of.

Kestrelpaw's features softened, "aw, sorry to hear about that. I've never even noticed that," she inched closer, "but everyone in here knows you're going to be a great warrior - doesn't matter who your kin is."

Rookpaw gave a subtle nod, "I guess." her words had not convinced him. Every cat viewed him in a contrarian light. That wouldn't change until he proved himself in such a way that nobody could doubt him again.

That's why he would become leader. The tom would strive and strive until he was sitting at the top and nobody could look down on him. It didn't matter how long it would take Rookpaw, he was determined to see it through.

His thoughts were interrupted as Kestrelpaw was struck by a coughing fit. "You okay?" asked Rookpaw, an edge of concern in his voice.

The tortoiseshell she-cat tried to respond to him in between her coughs, "I'm okay, just need to see Small-" Kestrelpaw's body was again wracked by coughs. She finally calmed down and replied hoarsely. "I'll see Smallpaw in the morning."

"You better." agreed Rookpaw.

Just as the tom finished his sentence, the medicine-cat apprentice appeared in the entrance to the den. Rookpaw became rigid, standing to his paws. He never said a word, but from the way he carried himself it was clear what he wanted to know; the condition of his mother and newborn siblings.

"Natalie is fine and so are the kits," Smallpaw yawned, "it might be for the best if you wait before going to visit. Just to keep them safe greencough."

"I don't have greencough though." replied the warrior apprentice. He had faith in his friend's words, though he still wanted to see them.

The little white-and-black cat mewed sleepily, "still, it's better to be safe than sorry. Maybe you've been around a cat with greencough recently."

The black tom briefly turned to face Kestrelpaw who met his gaze. He hadn't considered that he could have gave his newborn kin greencough. They would have been helpless. "Right." he murmured. As Smallpaw yawned again, Rookpaw commented; "I think you should sleep now."

The medicine-cat apprentice mumbled, "me too." dragging himself to a nearby, unoccupied nest and curling up.

Rookpaw gave him a strange look, as did Kestrelpaw. "Smallpaw, you're sleeping here?" his kin asked.

Smallpaw nodded, "medicine-cat den full of sick cats, nowhere to sleep." he closed his eyes, almost immediately falling asleep.

However, the little white-and-black cat's words echoed in the Rookpaw's mind. His amber eyes scanned the den, realising how barren it was. It was strangely quiet too, absent of Brackenpaw's snoring. Many cats were sick, but how many would live through their illness? In between the harshness of Leaf-bare and the lack of prey, Rookpaw knew ShadowClan would be shaken to its core.

 _Silverstar knows what to do,_ he reassured himself, _she has to._ The silver she-cat was someone Rookpaw could always have faith in, even if he didn't agree with all of her decisions. But the sense of respect he had never wavered. If it wasn't for Silverstar, then his mother would never have been accepted into ShadowClan.

Rookpaw settled down in his nest, deciding that he would visit his mother and kin in a few days. In the mean time, he would provide for his Clan the best he could. He began lightly coughing as he settled down and it filled him with a sense of sorrow.

Perhaps it would be better if he left them alone for now. For their own safety.

* * *

 **I'm so sorry this took so long to push out. In between college, general life, and writer's block I had a hard time pressing on. Hopefully this chapter is serviceable. Please forgive me for taking so damn long and churning out something short.**

 **Hope you all understand.**


	9. Chapter 9

"...and it's with a heavy heart that they will all be missed." Silverstar finished, her voice hollow. Her blue eyes were dull with grief and fatigue. She paid no attention to the snow clinging to her pelt. In the centre of ShadowClan camp was the bodies of eight warriors, all of them showing signs of a shared cause of death. Mucus made the areas around their eyes and noses sickly looking.

Smallpaw watched as Pigeonwing gently swept the snow off of Oakfoot's pelt. Beside him was Ivypelt, appearing as if she was peacefully sleeping. He felt hollow inside, emotionally numb. He knew that these cats, now hunting with their ancestors in StarClan, were in a much better place. They were no longer suffering this harsh leaf-bare. To that extent, Smallpaw felt thankful. Though it was a struggle to have such feelings at the forefront of his mind - especially when he saw the faces of those who knew these cats.

Across the clearing from Smallpaw was Sandwhisker, Ivypelt's mate. The look of utter despair on his face wrenched the medicine-cat apprentice's heart. Today, all of ShadowClan grieved. But it was clear which cats were the most effected.

The little white-and-black tom, along with his mentor, did all they could to save the cats. When it became apparent that the afflicted would never recover, that StarClan was beckoning them, they tried their best to make them as comfortable as possible. An overwhelming sense of despair enveloped him, Smallpaw had never seen a cat die before. It wouldn't be something he forgot soon.

The snow continued to fall and Smallpaw shivered. Petalnose, sitting besides him, draped her fluffy tail around the tom to keep him warm. He looked up at his mentor. She went to give him a reassuring lick between his ears, but turned away as she gave a violent cough. The she-cat was also suffering from greencough.

One dark thought had been constantly lingering on Smallpaw's mind; what if Petalnose died?

Then Smallpaw would be left all alone with nobody to guide him. He couldn't imagine a life without his mentor in it and the simple fact that this one fear may in fact become harsh reality terrified him. Dread stabbed his heart like an icicle. "Are you okay, Petalnose?" He murmured.

The tabby she-cat nodded, offering a weak smile. "Yes, now let's get back to the medicine-cat den. Let the others share tongues if they want to."

In recent days, the medicine-cat den had become a rather morbid place to be. As they entered the den, the overpowering aroma of lavender became apparent. Many of the sick cats here had lavender decorating their nests, masking the scents of sickness and death. Brackenpaw slowly got up in his nest. "Oh, hey Smallpaw." he greeted, sounding exhausted.

"Hi, Brackenpaw. Do you need anything?" asked Smallpaw with concern.

"Nah. Nah, I'm good." the golden-brown tom responded. He had a vicious coughing fit, turning away from the medicine-cat apprentice until he was finished. With a hoarse voice, the tom added; "you know, I think Rookpaw might need something."

"What's wrong with him?" inquired Smallpaw, a sense of urgency creeping into his voice.

Rookpaw answered, laying down in his nest. "Throat hurts." he replied simply. The white-and-black tom winced at the sound of his voice. It was terribly scratchy and rough. Smallpaw immediately got to work. First, he gave the black cat some poppy seeds then moved towards the entrance of the medicine-cat den. He made a small snowball, bringing it over to Rookpaw.

"You should take a few bites of this and it should soothe your throat," Smallpaw instructed, "not too fast though, or else-"

It was too late. Halfway through another bite, Rookpaw suddenly reeled back, his mouth open in a mix of confusion and fear. "What's happening?" he murmured cautiously.

"That's brain freeze." the tom giggled.

Brackenpaw gave a half-hearted laugh, laying back down in his nest to sleep.

"Is that what that was? It was like my head was under cold water." Rookpaw mewed.

Smallpaw nodded with a slight smile on his face. "Maybe next time you'll be a little slower?" he purred. Wordlessly, the warrior apprentice nodded and lay down to sleep. As he tended to the afflicted, Petalnose tested him on his knowledge. He felt anxiety shoot through him once he began to notice gaps in his mentor's knowledge:

"Okay, what do we use for toothaches?"

"Alder bark."

There was a pause, as if Petalnose was asking herself the same question. "...you're right. Well done, Smallpaw. What about Lungwort?"

"That's for yellowcough isn't it?"

"No, it's for-" Petalnose cut herself off. "Sorry, Smallpaw, you're right. Just ignore me."

Silverstar then walked into the den and both medicine-cats greeted her. Though Smallpaw knew from the grim expression on the she-cat's face that, whatever she had to say, it wasn't good. "Petalnose. Smallpaw." the ShadowClan leader greeted curtly.

"Oh, Silverstar!" Petalnose purred, "what can we-" she stop mid-sentence for a coughing fit. The tabby she-cat almost collapsed before Smallpaw rushed to her side.

Silverstar frowned in concern. "Petalnose, are you sure you should be working?"

"I'm fine, really." insisted the she-cat.

The little white-and-black tom felt like he should say something, though he bit his tongue. Petalnose was a very dedicated to her patients; she would never rest until every single cat under their care was healthy again. No amount of pleading from Smallpaw would make her consider her own health. Even now, while suffering from greencough, she was tending to others rather than herself.

It was something that Smallpaw both admired and found frustrating.

The she-cat sighed, "please, both of you come with me to my den." she signalled them to follow her, which they did.

The trek to Silverstar's den was obviously short lived, however Smallpaw hated it. The falling snow was not harsh, thank StarClan, but he still hated it. He hated how it clung to your pelt, only for it to make you cold then melt to leave your pelt wet or how he could never seem to shake from his fur. Once they entered the den, the meeting between the medicine-cats and leader began.

"This has gone on for long enough," started Silverstar. "We're dropping like flies and I'm afraid one of you two might be next." She solemnly said.

Immediately, Smallpaw's amber eyes landed on his mentor, currently struggling to conceal her coughing. It was safe to say that he was worried sick for the she-cat. The ShadowClan leader was right; this sickness had overstayed its welcome.

But what could they do? Catmint was not a plant that easily survived in the cold, especially when it was snowing. "I agree, Silverstar. B-but catmint's really hard to come by in weather like this." Smallpaw frowned.

"There's another herb though," Petalnose started, "it thrives in the cold, but it's incredibly rare."

Smallpaw's ears pricked up, hope faintly sparking to life in his heart. It may be a slim chance that they even found this herb, but it was better than waiting and hoping that ShadowClan would recover on its own. "W-what's it called?" he inquired.

The tabby she-cat coughed. "It's called Blazing Star."

"How come you never told me about it before?" The tom innocently asked.

"Because-" Petalnose collapsed as she experienced a vicious coughing fit.

Immediately, Smallpaw rushed to her side. He hated to see his mentor in such a state and felt grief begin to well up inside him, threatening to overflow. "S-stay here, I-I'll go get you some-"

Petalnose stopped him, draping her long and fluffy tail over his back. "No, it's okay, Smallpaw," she hoarsely responded. "I'm okay."

Silverstar frowned. "I don't think you are, Petalnose." Her voice carried an edge of concern.

The medicine-cat shook her head in disagreement before giving a defeated sigh. "I. . .I know, but I can't treat myself until my Clanmates are healthy."

Smallpaw sat in awe, his amber eyes wide. Never had he heard his mentor sound so fiercely defiant, especially towards their leader! Both Silverstar and himself knew that there was no changing her mind; Petalnose would put every cat in ShadowClan before herself.

Slowly, the leader nodded. "This 'Blazing Star', do you know what it looks like?" she inquired.

The brown tabby was beginning to recover, standing to her paws once again. "It has thorny leaves and yellow flowers," she explained, "it shouldn't be hard to spot, especially if everything is going to be covered in snow."

"Do you know if it grows in clusters?"

"I think so."

While Silverstar didn't express it openly, Smallpaw could see a flash of great relief in her blue eyes. "Then wherever it grows, you need to find it. If you both find some, I don't care if it's only one flower, bring it back _immediately_." She ordered.

No more words were needed, both the medicine-cat and her apprentice knew what was at stake; their entire Clan. Smallpaw could feel the pressure weighing down on him as they left ShadowClan camp, threatening to crush his fail frame. Though, he had to admit he was excited. This was all akin to an elder's tale for kits. He pondered if Lionblaze was ever in a similar situation and what he would do. What kind of challenges would a warrior of his calibre face?

Quickly, the little white-and-black tom pushed such thoughts from his mind as they continued on their trek. Smallpaw had to focus on finding some Blazing Star. It piqued his interest. Just how rare was this herb that Petalnose neglected to tell him about it? "Umm, Petalnose?" he mewed.

"Yes, Smallpaw?" she replied, shaking the snow from her long pelt.

"How come you never told me about Blazing Star before?" the apprentice asked.

His mentor answered him. "Like I said earlier, it's really rare, and since it's much easier to gather catmint instead I didn't feel like it was necessary to tell you about it. Though, maybe I should have let you know about it - in case of situations like this."

"It's okay." Smallpaw replied. He grimaced as the snow crunched underneath his paws, the cold nibbling at his paw pads like tiny, thorn-sharp teeth. Another reason to support his distaste of snow. "Have you ever seen it before?"

"I haven't, but my mentor claimed to have seen it."

The tom gasped, "wow! Larkfeather found Blazing Star before? Did he ever use it?"

"On himself when he was sick with greencough. He wasn't sure about it, he had never seen it before and didn't want to make another cat take it in case it was poisonous; that was pretty mousebrained of him," she gave a mrow of laughter, however tired it sounded. "He eventually found out more about it, though he never told me how. I suppose a StarClan cat shared tongues with him."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

They continued on their march, Smallpaw shivering and coughing all the while. His pelt wasn't as thick as his mentor's and as such provided less protection from the cold. It didn't take long before he was not only cold, but soaking wet also. With the hostile weather around them, it wouldn't take long until he fell victim to a condition like frostbite or cold fever. They had to be quick.

Not long afterwards, his paws were beginning to hurt from the cold. With the dreadful weather, terrible cold, and how miserably ill he was beginning to feel, he just wanted to get things over with. Not just for his sake, but for his Clan's too. "H-how m-m-much far-farther?" Smallpaw asked, his teeth chattering.

"Not much," replied Petalnose, "we're going to check the twoleg path, it's where Larkfeather found it. If nothing's there then we will have to just leave." she added with a somber tone.

A thought suddenly appeared in the apprentice's head. One that forced him to stop in his track. "What about SkyClan? Won't they need some Blazing Star too?"

The medicine-cat stopped in her tracks, turning to face the tom. For a moment, she didn't speak. It was like she was trying to figure out what to say. Perhaps the answer she wanted to give was too upsetting or bleak to acknowledge aloud. Petalnose finally responded. "Don't worry, SkyClan will get some too. But ShadowClan is our priority right now, okay?"

Smallpaw wanted to reject, but kept quiet. He didn't believe that any cat's life should be considered more valuable than another. It was a medicine-cat's job to care for all those who fall ill - regardless of Clan, status, or if they were even Clanborn. However, this was not the time nor the place to argue. They had to cooperate to save both Clans.

The two scoured the twoleg path, though the snow was beginning to fall heavily. The little white-and-black tom was well aware that he had to be swift. If there was any Blazing Star, it would quickly be covered in snow. Smallpaw haphazardly noses through the snow, almost losing his balance a few times. He was beginning to lose feeling in his paws; he had to get out of the snow as soon as possible.

"Have you found anything?" Petalnose called to him.

"N-no. I-I think I can't feel my paws anymore." He responded, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. With him being as frail and as sickly as he was, coming down with frostbite would surely kill him. In a brief moment, Smallpaw felt that dying was a likely outcome for him.

He didn't want to die. The thought alone terrified him.

"Just keep looking! Just a little longer, Smallpaw! We'll head back and make sure you're okay in a few minutes." His mentor promised.

Reluctantly, he continued looking. Eventually, his nose touched something. It was sharp, poking him unexpectedly and he recoiled. _Is. . .is it what I think it is?_ He uncovered the thing, hidden beneath the snow. It was a flower, a bright yellow flower. It's sleek petals pointed outwards from a thorny stem, giving Smallpaw the impression of a star.

It was what he thought it was, thank StarClan!

"Petalnose! Petalnose!" he cried out, shaken from his now-weakening state and excitement. "I found some Blazing Star!"

While he may have found their prized possession. They still had to make their way home


	10. Chapter 10

"You did? Great!" Petalnose responded, her voice gaining a sense of hope. Even as the snow began to fall heavily, Smallpaw would still see that hope shining in her eyes. The tabby she-cat rushed over to him, kicking up snow as she went.

The wind begin to pick up, howling loudly as it shoved Smallpaw. The little white-and-black tom stumbled, meekly crying out as he landed in the snow. He would have scrambled back to his paws under normal circumstances. However, this was not normal. Slowly, stiffly, he got back to his paws. They hurt - badly. The medicine-cat apprentice never knew it was possible to feel so cold that it hurt.

Petalnose was brushing away snow with an urgency, uncovering more and more of the spiky yellow flowers. "Oh my, StarClan. Smallpaw, we'll be able to save the whole Clan! There's so many!" she cried out. With a grin, she turned to face him, "here, help me..."

The medicine-cat's words died in her throat.

"It's. . .its fine, actually. You don't look too good, Smallpaw. Maybe you should-" Petalnose mewed worriedly.

"-No! I can do it." he protested.

Petalnose opened her mouth, most likely to disagree with him, but quickly closed it. Smallpaw knew why she stopped talking - she saw the condition he was in. The tom could bear it, however. Just for a little longer. ShadowClan was depending on them. "Okay. Gather as much as you can as quickly as you can." she meowed as she began gathering as much of the Blazing Star as she could.

So, Smallpaw too began to gather the Blazing Stars. All the while, he could feel the brown tabby she-cat shooting nervous glances toward him. It was difficult to ignore, it was like she was expecting him to keel over any second now. But the tom was determined to prove he was just as capable as Petalnose was.

After his mentor gathered as much of the flower as she could carry, she turned to Smallpaw mentioned to him to return to camp. He noticed how stiffly the she-cat moved; it seemed that the bitter cold was also affecting his mentor, too. A pang of worry shot through Smallpaw's heart. In the heavy snow, would they make it back to camp?

He wasn't sure.

But the two cats ran off back in the direction they came. However, all the while Smallpaw found that he was stumbling and his movements were even more stiff. The little white-and-black tom forced himself to keep going, squinting as snow tried to get in his eyes. ShadowClan was depending on them! He couldn't let them down. Would Lionblaze let a little bit of snow stop him? Absolutely not!

But he was shivering, so cold and so sore. When the wind howled, it felt like someone was raking their claws against his face. Smallpaw began to falter, falling further behind. No matter how hard he pressed on, he simply couldn't keep up with Petalnose. _Is this it?_ he pondered, anxiety gnawing at his gut. _I. . .I don't want to die._ The sensation of anxiety began to morph into intense fear. A fear of the end.

His end.

Smallpaw tumbled, face first into the snow. Everything was cold, everything was painful. He wouldn't make it, but the tom didn't lament that fact. He had tried his hardest, he really did. But it wasn't enough, was it? Too weak. That's all he was; too weak. Mallowpaw had been right. Smallpaw was pathetic. Maybe it was just how things were meant to be. No matter how stubborn he was was, or what good he tried to do - he would always end up with his face in the ground, defeated and put back in his place.

Maybe if Smallpaw hadn't been so set on trying to be something grander than he actually was, he wouldn't be freezing to death. He was like a moth, flying too close to the sun yet unable to understand why he was burning up until it was too late.

As he lay, defeated in the snow, he could feel the familiar cold pressing down on his back. In a strange way, it reminded him of being in the nursery, huddled together with his siblings and their mother's tail across their bodies. As a kit, he always felt safe and secure when he slept by his mother's side. Strangely, or perhaps not, he felt safe here.

His string of nihilistic thoughts was cut short by the sound of a tabby she-cat stopping in her tracks, turning around and moving back towards him. Wordlessly, she picked the tom up by nudging him until his foreleg was over her back. In his pathetic state, Smallpaw could barely muster words. He couldn't even find the strength to protest. The white-and-black cat was dead weight.

The tabby she-cat grunted as she marched forwards. "C'mon," she grunted, her voice muffled by the Blazing Star in her mouth. Smallpaw wasn't sure if her words were directed at him or if she was talking to herself. "Keep going. You can keep going!"

He was snapped out of his slump by those words. Petalnose was a strong she-cat. The simple fact that she was carrying him on her back, as sick as she was, marching through a snow storm. It was inspiring. She wasn't giving up, so why should he? If anything, Petalnose was in a much worse state than him yet she pressed forwards.

"Petalnose." he weakly rasped. "Let me help you."

"No, you can barely stand." declined the medicine-cat. "We're almost there, Smallpaw, just hang on tight!" she yelled over the howling wind and through a mouthful of Blazing Stars. The apprentice could barely hear her. Eventually, he could feel the thorny barriers of ShadowClan camp running through his fur.

Relief flooded through his body. They had made it!

Petalnose stumbled into the medicine-cat den, where the stench of sickness and death had become overwhelming, and struggled to set down Smallpaw along with the Blazing Stars. Once she had, she gently nudged him with her nose. "Smallpaw," she spoke softly, "sit here for now. I'm-"

The apprentice knew what she was going to say. "I-I'm. . .I'm helping!" he sputtered. Smallpaw's voice was hoarse and raspy, just like all of those who were sick. With great effort, he got to his paws. "Please." he weakly begged.

The medicine-cat gave no reply. At least, not a verbal one. She nudged a clump of the flowers towards him. "B-But, how much am I supposed to-" he started.

"-Larkfeather ate a full flower head, give them all that!" responded Petalnose.

Then, Smallpaw knew what to do. With all his remaining strength, he gathered what he could and began doing what he had been trained to do - take care of the sick. Starting with the cat closest to him, he gave them the head of the flower.

It was Pigeonwing, one of the elders. The old cats eyes were almost jammed shut with mucus. As were his nostrils, forcing the speckled tom to breathe in shallowly from his mouth. It was awful to see, Smallpaw felt nothing but sympathy for him.

"Eat this, please." he murmured. The apprentice weakly nudged the flower's head to his mouth. The elder tried to reach for it, but his frail and stiff body prevented him from doing so. Smallpaw then fed the flower to him, watching as he slowly chewed and swallowed.

The effects were immediate. It was not the wonder herb he had hoped for, but it was definitely working. Pigeonwing's sides were falling and rising, but less frequently and deeper than before. He raised his head slightly, giving as throaty a purr as he could muster.

That gave Smallpaw all the encouragement, all the drive, that he needed. He just had to keep going and ignore the pain and the cold. For the sake of every sick cat in this den, he had to push on and ignore his ills. Just like any decent medicine-cat would.

It was what Petalnose was doing. Despite her condition; not having eaten in ages, sick with greencough, freezing and aching from the snowstorm outside, she was doing her best to give her patients what they needed. Despite how she stumbled around, almost falling to the ground at times, she was fulfilling her role in the Clan.

Just watching his mentor turned that spark of determination inside him into a fire. One day, StarClan would be honoured to have her walk amongst them. But from watching her stagger around like wounded prey, it made a small part of him wonder if that day was today. Though, for now, he would have to push that feeling away.

So that's what Smallpaw did. He continued to attend to the sick cats under his care, just like his mentor was doing. The white-and-black tom had to admit, he was so tired. His bones ached with every slight movement, his lungs felt they might burst with every cough he sputtered out. All the tom wanted to do was lie down and drift away to sleep. He didn't care that it was cold or that the den stank to StarClan.

But he would get that soon. With the combined efforts of his mentor and himself, every single patient had been treated with the Blazing Star. Athe only cats left was themselves. Smallpaw had never felt such a slurry of emotion; relief, excitement, peace, joy, happiness.

"We. . .we did it," Smallpaw mewed, but then it truly began to sink in. "We did it!" He cheered, giving a slight grin. Despite how tired and sore he felt, he just wanted to prance around and shout to StarClan about what they had done.

Despite this, Petalnose looked hollow. Her green eyes were dull with fatigue and helplessness. "No." she said softly.

The apprentice's celebratory mood suddenly died. "N-no?" he repeated. He didn't understand why she looked so defeated. They had been able to give a Blazing Star to ever single patient, so what was the issue?

The starving tabby she-cat nodded weakly. "There's only one Blazing Star left." she explained.

One flower left and two sick cats.

Suddenly, the idea of victory came crashing down around Smallpaw.

He wanted to scream.

Scream until his throat tore.


End file.
